


Sweet Little Lies

by Dusty



Category: As Time Goes By
Genre: Corporal Punishment, Discipline, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Spanking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-04-18
Updated: 2013-04-18
Packaged: 2017-12-08 20:23:13
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,224
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/765609
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dusty/pseuds/Dusty
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jean has told one fib too many, after promising Lionel she wouldn't.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sweet Little Lies

**Author's Note:**

  * For [ladyvivien](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ladyvivien/gifts).



> Contains consensual domestic discipline. Of a very naughty little Pooh.

He found her in the kitchen, eyes darting away from him guiltily. She was doing her best to blend in with the kettle.

“It’s no use hiding in here,” he told her gruffly.

“I’m not hiding,” she protested. “I’m making tea.”

“Jean,” he warned.

She glanced at him, her eyes big. “I’m sorry. All right?”

Lionel scowled and shook his head. “No, it’s not all right. You’ve made us all look like fools. You promised me you’d stop this silly compulsive lying lark and you’ve broken that promise - all because you, a professional, mature woman, can’t stand up to your sister-in-law.”

She wriggled, looking away, willing the kettle to boil quicker.

“Jean,” he repeated sternly. She looked back at him with a mixture of forlorn contrition and fear. Caught red handed. He glared back at her severely. “I want you to go upstairs.”

“Oh Lionel,” she pleaded. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean for this to go so far. Can’t we –.”

“ _Upstairs_.” It was a severe command.

Her mouth went dry as she felt shame crashing around her shoulders. She hung her head slightly with the weight of it and wordlessly obeyed him, crossing the kitchen with her eyes averted.

“And get ready for bed,” he added.

She passed him nervously and made her way upstairs.

Lionel switched off the kettle and turned off the lights. They wouldn’t be coming back down tonight.

\---

She was still in the bathroom when he got upstairs. He entered the bedroom and sat on the edge of the bed waiting, pondering what he was about to do. They had an agreement, after all. Now he had to take her in hand.

Jean meekly stepped inside the room and closed the door behind her. She was in her white nighty; her glossy pale-pink dressing gown tied tightly around her; a futile attempt at defence.

She shivered. He looked very serious indeed. “Lionel, _please_ ,” she said.

“Please what?” he responded curtly. “Do you honestly think I won’t punish you?”

She looked at her feet miserably. “No,” came her husky reply.

He stood. “So what do you think should happen now?”

She peeped up at him sorrowfully through her eyelashes and bit her lip. His gaze was steady; intimidating yet reassuring all the same. She took a deep but shaky breath. “I think you should spank me.”

“Sir,” he amended.

She shifted on her feet. “Yes. I think you should spank me, Sir.”

“Good,” he said sharply. “At least now we’re on the same page.”

“But I don’t want you to.” It came out as a husky whine. She was fidgeting nervously with her hands.

He gave a frustrated sigh. “I know you don’t want me to, but you should have thought of that before. This obviously hasn’t been effective as a deterrent, so you need a little more than that, don’t you?”

She nodded in surrender and returned to looking at her slippers. She glanced back up when she realised he was unbuckling his belt. Her eyes widened.

He unthreaded it without a word, causing her to take a step backwards, but he simply laid it out on the bed. Then he crossed the room to the dresser and retrieved her hairbrush, placing that down on the bed as well.

He had to take pity on her; she looked quite wretched.

“Well, what do you think, Jean? How bad have you been? I can smack you with my hand, or using one of these. Which do you think you deserve?”

She gulped. She’d never been spanked with a belt. She’d been spanked with a hairbrush once or twice as a teenage girl for staying out far later than she should. She winced at the memory.

She took a good look at Lionel. “I’m sorry,” she said with grave sincerity. “I’ve been awful.” She took a long moment, glancing at the implements on the bed. “The hairbrush,” she mumbled reluctantly, hanging her head and picking her nails.

“I agree,” said Lionel. “Though if this happens again, you’ll get no choice and I’ll give you such a whipping you’ll have to lie on your front for a week.”

She frowned at the floor. Lionel felt his heart racing as he begged silently for her to take that on board. He didn’t know how else to get through to her.

“Okay,” she croaked.

“Good,” he barked. He moved the belt to one side and sat down on the bed again. “Come here.”

She shuffled towards him. He placed a warm hand on her arm as she stood in front of him, and rubbed it soothingly. Then he clasped her by upper arm and gently tugged her over his lap.

She gasped, her breath hitching with anticipation. He pulled up her dressing gown, revealing her nighty, and held her securely. “You foolish woman,” he scolded, picking up the hairbrush. “This was utterly unnecessary, Jean.” He brought the brush down on her cotton-covered bottom with a dull thwack.  

She jerked but made no sound. He repeated the action, the satisfying impact relieving his temper marginally. “You promised me you wouldn’t lie again. I warned you what would happen if you did.”

“Lionel!” she pleaded between whimpers. “You know what she’s like!”

He applied the brush to her twisting backside a little harder. “Then you shouldn’t have promised,” he barked. “You should have more faith in yourself.” He struck her with an especially hard crack and she shouted out, her legs scissoring. It didn’t deter him. He continued with a measured volley of firm swats, clamping her body in place as she wiggled and pleaded.

“You should be proud of who you are and not feel the need to lie, to impress Penny and Stephen of all people.” Each whack emphasised his choice words and elicited a soft cry from Jean. She was a bundle of ragged breaths.

One last spank with the hairbrush and he laid it to one side. He rubbed her buttocks through the material of her nightdress, feeling the heat of her flesh. She was sobbing quietly.

He sighed and pulled up her nighty. Her bottom was quite red. But not red enough.

He continued his rebuke. “You had no right to drag us all into this. You put Sandy, Judith and myself in a very awkward position, all because you were too cowardly to tell the truth.” He brought his palm down on her bare bottom. The smack felt even harder than the hairbrush.

“Ow! Lionel, please, I’m sorry,” she implored. Instinctively her hand went to protect her rear.

He slapped it out of the way and smacked her bottom all the harder.  She cried out in frustration, the slaps stinging like hell and Lionel’s unrelenting grip preventing her from fighting back. She wriggled and writhed in his lap, trying in vain to dodge the fusillade. He tried not to find her kicking legs endearing.

“Then to lie to me to cover up what you did…” he gave her one very sharp smack at that point and she shrieked. He followed it up with another half a dozen steady swats before she dissolved into proper tears. Her body began to sink into him as her resistance melted. It was heart-breaking to hear her cry, sounding as she did like a little girl, but he administered a further few mild slaps, refusing to yield to her. “Don’t let me down again, Jean, or I you’ll be over my knee again.” He raised his hand to punctuate his point with one final spank, but she sniffled adorably, and he relented. Instead, he replaced both her nighty and dressing gown and gave the one last swat over the material. She squeaked in response.

She grizzled, grumbling something incomprehensible as he stroked her hair. Her sobs subsided and he lifted her up to standing. Her face was pink, tear stained and fixed in a ferocious scowl. He stood himself and restored the hairbrush to the dresser. She knew better than to move, so she stood obediently, awaiting his next instructions. Eventually she glanced at him, the scowl having given way to pure contrition.

He’d got to her. He could see it. He sighed, unsure if he’d ever loved her more. “Get into bed,” he said gently. She silently removed her dressing gown and slipped miserably under the covers.

He leaned over and kissed her on the head. “I’ll only be a moment.”

He disappeared, apparently to go to the bathroom. Jean snuggled up in bed feeling utterly woebegone. How had she driven him to punish her like that? Well, a voice inside her said, she’d lied, broken a promise and then lied about that, too. She brushed a tear away, sniffing as she considered that if the shoe were on the other foot, and a loved one of hers was behaving so badly... She huffed into the covers. It was all her fault.

He came back in the room, ready for bed and smelling of toothpaste. She sulked deliberately, longing for his hands on her again, needing comfort. She burrowed into the duvet about as far as she could. 

She felt him get into bed. He turned off the light. “Come here,” he said, firmly but warmly. She complied with some reluctance. “Oh for goodness’ sake, Jean,” he scolded her again, scooping her into his arms into an embrace. “Stop misbehaving.”

She wrapped her arms tightly around him. “Sorry,” she said weakly.

He kissed her crown again and caressed her. “My naughty little Pooh,” he said fondly. “It’s all right. I’ve got you.”

He held her tightly as her head rested on his shoulder, rocking her very slightly and planting tender kisses on her forehead. He rubbed her back. “I won’t let you go,” he whispered.

She gave a soft sigh, her body relaxing into him. She shifted and peeked up at him, her shining eyes adoring. “Sorry, sir,” she said dreamily. She leaned in and kissed him on the lips, chaste at first, then amorous. He returned in kind, brushing her soft lips with his.

It suddenly felt like a contact they’d missed for too long. A flame ignited. He pressed harder, deepening the kiss until their tongues met. Drawing her close, he rolled with her so she was underneath him and kissed her ardently. She was immediately pliant in his arms, rocking demurely against him.

He kissed her neck and she gasped sharply.

“Sensitive, are we?” he crooned, doing it again and running his tongue firmly against a vein. She arched into him this time, opening her legs, breathing hard. She was all his.

He realised he was achingly hard. What had been a pleasant vibe in his groin was now a throbbing need, as his Jean lay quivering and sighing in his arms, almost intoxicated with arousal and wondrously submissive.

He pushed up her nighty and slipped his hand between her legs. She was white hot and deliciously wet. His mind fogged over as she clutched at him, pulling him flush to her, her hips grinding. He visualised removing her nighty, nibbling at her breasts, but instead fumbled with his pyjama bottoms and pushed them down. She smelled so good, he wanted to bury himself in her. His mischievous and beautiful Jean.

She groaned with excitement. “Lionel,” she panted. Her blue eyes seemed to swirl in a haze of passion. He nuzzled her neck again and her hands fisted in his pyjama top. He was panting himself. He could feel the heat of her on his own sex. Both still half clothed, he lined himself up and drove into her smoothly. They cried out in unison.

They blinked at each other, melting into soft smiles. He began to rut lightly. Jean hissed and he slowed. “Are you all right?” he murmured.

She winced then glared at him. “My backside is on fire,” she grumbled.

He chuckled and leaned in to kiss her. “Too right,” he said sweetly. “Naughty girl.”

He thrust sharply and Jean instantly forgot about her punished bottom. “Ah!” she called out, her face a picture of bliss. He thrust again, almost seeing stars himself.

“I love you,” he uttered huskily, sensing a brewing lack of coherence and surrendering to the demands of his body. He snapped his hips vigorously, spurred on by her sensuous cries and the feel of her fingertips on her sex. He brought his face down close to hers and kissed her cheek before lapsing into pure grunts and thrusts. He got as close to her as he could.

“I love you too,” came her breathy reply into his ear. Not another word was spoken. They held on to one another, moving as one, knowing each other’s sounds and cries, sensing their pleasure build and intoning their imminent joint release.

They came together, loud and intense, shuddering sweetly until the only sound was the groaning of the bed springs as they softly rocked one another. Eventually, Lionel rolled off her and flopped back on the mattress. She cuddled up to him.

The room was still and they breathed together softly.

“Does this mean I’m forgiven?” she murmured into his chest.

“No. It means I love you,” he answered, smirking into the darkness. He could sense her pouting. He stroked her lovingly. “But you are forgiven nonetheless.”

She squirmed happily in his arms, feeling perfectly taken care of.


End file.
